


The Color of Desire

by thejerseyturnpike



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Grantaire gets off on challenging Enjolras, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejerseyturnpike/pseuds/thejerseyturnpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras doesn't appreciate Grantaire coming home to him drunk, so he decides to take charge of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Color of Desire

A key rustled, unsuccessfully for the first two attempts into the lock of the door, and the door flew open, crashing into the wall. The man stumbled into the apartment, giggling, and shushed the door for having crashed open so loudly. Seizing the handle he pushed the door shut and stumbled across the room to the bedroom door. This door crashed open as well, and the man staggered over to the bed as he tried to remove his shoes while walking. The room was dark, and as drunk as he was, he was unsuccessful, and he fell face first onto the bed. He giggled again, rolling over and tugged off his boots, flailing on the bed as he did so. He threw the shoes onto the floor with his vest and pulled himself up the bed, wriggling under the sheets to be resting behind the man who seemed to have slept through the whole noisy ordeal. He threw an arm and a leg over the man and burrowed his face into the golden locks.

“I don’t remember inviting a drunk into my bed tonight,” the man stated in a distinctly not groggy voice; the noise had woken him when it began.

“I am sorry, my Apollo,” the drunk man murmured into the golden hair, “but as I do not get drunk of the ideas of revolution, I have to make do with whatever substances I can imbibe,” Grantaire kissed Enjolras’ bare neck, who tensed at the touch.

With reflexes much quicker than a drunk man could counter, the blonde reversed his position and Grantaire so he was now straddling the intoxicated man. He pinned his arms down to be level with his head, and leaned in so their faces were very nearly touching. Grantaire grinned devilishly, and leaned in to kiss the other. Enjolras jerked his head back so he was just out of reach.

“I do recall telling you not to come to my bed drunk,” Enjolras hissed, “I don’t care for your cynical musings or the stink of brandy it leaves on my sheets.”

“It’s a surprise you ever let me into your bed at all, then, my fearless leader, for cynical and stinking of brandy is my typical state of being,” Grantaire licked his lips and smiled.

Enjolras smiled at this, and ground down his hips against Grantaire. Enjolras was naked, as this was his typical manner of sleeping, and he was already growing hard at the sight of his lover pinned down beneath him. Grantaire let out a small groan at the movement against him, and tugged against the hands that held him to try to move his face closer to Enjolras to try to kiss him.

Enjolras smirked, and, pleased with the reaction he had elicited and craving more, began to slowly work his hips against Grantaire. Grantaire smiled blissfully and arched into him. Enjolras continued the languid movement until it became not enough for Grantaire; he was pulling against him and craved the feeling of his lips.

Enjolras removed his hands from Grantaire’s to begin removing his shirt, but as soon as he did Grantaire sat up and crashed his lips onto Enjolras, kissing him fiercely. Enjolras grabbed his hands and pushed him back onto the bed.

“You stink of liquor,” was Enjolras explanation, before adding, “and I think I rather like seeing you in this position,” the look in his eye was playful.

“What, bound and pinned beneath you, dominated?” Grantaire mused.

“Yes,” Enjolras raked his nails down Grantaire’s arms, and Grantaire shivered at the sensation, “problem?” Enjolras quirked his eyebrow before bending down to nip at Grantaire’s collarbone.

Awash in a sea of sensation, Grantaire barely managed to breathe out “no problem”. Enjolras, returning his hands to where they clasped Grantaire’s down onto the sheets, sucked at Grantaire’s neck, and he groaned.

“Besides, who am I to keep a god from what he wants? A mere mortal who only wishes to please his Apollo.”

“I am no god,” Enjolras breathed, removing one hand from Grantaire’s wrist to begin undoing his buttons on his shirt, licking, kissing, and biting as he went.

“Ah, but you are to me, and I would be honored to pleasure my god in any way I can.”

Enjolras had finished unbuttoning Grantaire’s shirt, and with adept quickness, he pulled him up, ripped it off, and cast it to the floor, and then pinned Grantaire’s arms back down. Enjolras smiled, pleased. He began shifting his hips again, bending to bite at Grantaire’s neck once more, a little more forcefully this time.

“I would have you like this,” Enjolras whispered to him before licking the shell of his ear. Grantaire shuddered.

“Oh God yes,” he grunted.

“Beg. I want to hear you beg for it,” Enjolras whispered, grinding his hips harder against Grantaire.

“Please… fuck… please Enjolras. I would have you inside of me. Please,” Grantaire threw his head back, moving his hips against Enjolras. Enjolras, pleased with the reaction he could achieve from these small actions and thoroughly enjoying seeing Grantaire so vulnerable and wanting, took no time in removing Grantaire’s pants and casting them to the floor. Grantaire kept his hands by his head this time, obeying Enjolras and his desire to keep him submissive. Enjolras reached over to the table beside the bed and grabbed the bottle of lubricant that they kept there. He slid so he was sitting in between Grantaire’s legs and lubed up his own prick and Grantaire’s for good measure, taking his time with long languid strokes. Grantaire groaned deeply, and unable to keep still, wound his hands into Enjolras curly locks. Enjolras hands flew to Grantaire’s and threw them back down on the bed.

“Couldn’t resist,” Grantaire smirked as his way of explanation.

“Challenge me again and I may have to get rougher with you,” Enjolras voice was deep and full of wanting, and he bit down again on Grantaire.

“Please, oh God please, Enjolras,” Grantaire moaned, and they locked eyes, “Please,” he repeated.

Grantaire gave him a fierce look full of want, a look that almost made Enjolras go weak. He positioned himself and thrust into Grantaire, and they both groaned.

Enjolras thrust into him, fast and deep, hitting the exact right spot has he had become accustomed to with each punishing roll of his hips. Grantaire arched and moaned beneath him. The harder Enjolras fucked him the more he craved his kiss. He persisted in leaning forward and attempting to capture his lips in a kiss, but Enjolras kept a far enough distance to evade it.

“I would have you kiss me,” Grantaire whimpered.

“You reek of liquor,” Enjolras repeated, “and I want you to want it,” Enjolras smirked, continuing to thrust.

“I do,” Grantaire groaned, moving against his thrusts, “God I do. Please Enjolras. I want it.”

“Not bad enough,” Enjolras smirked again, “and I like you like this. Desperate and wanting and vulnerable,” he leaned in, close enough where Grantaire could have kissed him had he not been fixated on his voice and his words, “I want to bring you right to the edge, torment you and make you beg and make you writhe and make you need me before I give you what you crave,” Enjolras continued to thrust.

Grantaire wrapped his legs around Enjolras, pulling him in closer to him. Enjolras pushed himself deeper, kissing down Grantaire’s chest stopping to suck and bite every once in a while. His focus on Grantaire’s chest and thrusting himself into him, his grip had slackened on Grantaire’s wrists. He looked up at Grantaire with a desire in his eyes that Grantaire could not resist, he pushed himself up and kissed Enjolras once more, taking his face in his hands and winding his fingers in his hair.

Enjolras allowed the kiss for just a moment before he ripped the hands from his hair again. Enjolras grinned in a conspiratorial manner; he was enjoying this game. Grantaire, too, seemed to enjoy the act of disobeying and getting caught.

Enjolras gripped his wrists tightly, his nails biting into the skin. Grantaire grinned at the sensation, and pushed against the thrusts that had become shallower and quicker.

He let go of one of Grantaire’s arms, slowly, to see if Grantaire would try to wind it back in his curls. When he left his arm resting by his head, Enjolras slid his hand down his chest to Grantaire’s prick, and wrapped his long fingers around him. Grantaire moaned his name, and Enjolras tugged quickly, keeping pace with his thrusts as best he could. He was quickly losing focus, and was bringing them both nearer their release.

Enjolras bent to Grantaire’s neck once more, licking and sucking from his collarbone to below his ear. Grantaire writhed beneath him, and Enjolras grip on Grantaire’s wrist slackened. Grantaire bend his wrist beneath him and entwined their fingers together, clasping them tightly, as if had they not held onto each other they would have fallen away from the earth.

“Enjolras,” his name was like a prayer on Grantaire’s lips, and he looked up from his neck. Grantaire kissed Enjolras once more, and this time not only did Enjolras allow it, he gave into it, took charge of it. Grantaire parted his lips and Enjolras slipped his tongue inside, kissing him fiercely, and Grantaire kissed him back with unbridled excitement. Grantaire worked his free hand for the third time into Enjolras hair, winding fingers around curls and keeping their faces close together. Enjolras worked his hand along Grantaire’s length, and Grantaire’s breathing became erratic as Enjolras brought him close to his release.

Grantaire’s fingers tightened around Enjolras hand and hair as he grunted his name and spilled over their bellies. Enjolras grinned and pressed his forehead against Grantaire’s, thrusting a few times more before coming, groaning Grantaire’s name several times. He gave one final thrust sighed heavily, his weight still pressed against Grantaire and their bodies still intertwined. Enjolras cleaned their stomachs from where Grantaire had released over them. Grantaire smiled up at his Apollo with a blissful contentedness on his face.

“I feel rather sober after that,” Grantaire sighed.

“Well then I think I’ve found my cure for when you come to me in your wretched drunken state,” Enjolras kissed him once more and smiled at him, “I’ll simply fuck it out of you.”

“Is my drunkenness really so wretched?”

“I don’t care for it, no. I find you quite pleasant when you’re sober and aware.”

“A man can be just as aware when he has been drinking as when he has not,” Grantaire responded.

“Perhaps I don’t like the cynicism,” Enjolras retorted.

“You love the cynicism,” Grantaire grinned, “it gives you someone to argue with. I don’t think you would know what to do if I stopped being so cynical. You would not have someone to contradict at every turn and you would have significantly less to talk about when you’re stirring the people to revolution,” Grantaire licked his lips, finding his argument won. He worked his fingers through the blonde hair. Enjolras smirked.

“Perhaps I don’t like the smell,” Enjolras knew his argument was being lost, but he did not seem to care.

“The whole city stinks of wine and piss and fish. It smells of home to me,” Grantaire, knowing Enjolras had run out of reasons, pulled his Apollo close and kissed him once more, “and if I didn’t come to your bed stinking of alcohol then you would have no reason to do what you just did. Your speeches may be grand but this argument is a weak one.”

“Hush now, you rambling drunkard,” Enjolras pulled away, rolling onto his side facing away, “You’ve kept me up for far too long.”

Grantaire smiled as he rolled over onto his side, throwing his arm over Enjolras once more. He buried his face once more into his blonde hair and quickly fell asleep.


End file.
